


Let Me Say I Love You

by Adamarks



Series: Tumblr Prompts [4]
Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: I love you prompts, M/M, collection of tumblr prompt fills, one shots
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2020-08-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:14:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 1,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25657240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adamarks/pseuds/Adamarks
Summary: a collection of prompt fills from a "different ways to say I Love You" prompt meme on tumblr.
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Series: Tumblr Prompts [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1978117
Comments: 20
Kudos: 46





	1. love notes

**Author's Note:**

> from caitybuglove23: Okay okay so hear me out. #33 On a post-it note. BUT make it a fast food napkin 👀👀. Can give more details if you’d like (:  
> [she fulfilled the same prompt here](https://caitybuglove23.tumblr.com/post/624915046989021184/number-33-but-a-napkin-u-kno-what-to-do)

Simon skidded into the firehouse only two minutes late, which was a bloody miracle, considering the shitshow his morning had been thus far.

His alarm hadn’t gone off (thank god he has the internal clock of a rooster). He’d accidentally elbowed Baz in the face in his rush to get out of bed, earning him a smack and a few pissy words from the husband first thing. As he’d been brushing his teeth and taking a leak (multitasking master), his hand had spasmed and the toothbrush taken an unfortunate morning swim (maybe not a master).

It was then that he should’ve called off and gone back to bed.

But oh no, he’d trudged bravely on, determined to take the day by its horns and be the matador he was destined to be.

In the kitchen, he encountered his next set of trials: a broken coffee pot, no more frozen waffles, no more sticky notes, and a brutally stubbed toe. Again, he valiantly pushed through, grabbing a piece of fruit Baz makes them buy in a last ditch effort for a healthy lifestyle, treading through the pain of a possibly broken toe (it wasn’t broken), and making it out the door.

Of course, the tube was a twenty-eight ring circus with no ringmaster in sight. Simon lost his pass, got the (not) broken toe stepped on, and to top it all off, it was running a solid eleven minutes late. Simon had been, at this point, gravely considering a dirt nap.

But finally, finally, finally, he’d made it to work in one piece. (Physically. Mentally, his sanity was reduced to a trail of breadcrumbs leading from point home to point fire station.)

Like a zombie for want of brains, he made his way through his morning, chugging the available coffee and waiting for disaster to strike. Until mid-morning, when he received a text from the old spouse: an image followed by:

_Why._

**Bc I need them for breakfast**

_I mean the method of communication_

**Oh we’re out of sticky notes too**

**U should get some of those whike ur at it**

_Is that ketchup_

**Ya couldn’t find tape**

_Simon, that’s repulsive._

**It’s just ketchup on a napkin**

_You are cleaning this when you get home_

**):**

**fine**

_Also, I love you too._

**(:**

The image, as mentioned above, was of the Pitch house’s refrigerator. A leftover napkin from the other night’s takeaway was haphazardly plastered onto the door by a large dab of ketchup. Written on it in purple sharpie was a mess of chicken scratch that read:

_Baz get some more eggos plz we’re out_

_-simon_

_Ps I love you have a good day :)_


	2. let's make sweet music

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> simon is a guitar prodigy. they got into a fight. now what.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> from theflyingpeach: 22 & 23 combined but it’s that Taylor Swift song other side of the door or w/e  
> (23 & 22 were through a door and through a song)

I’d gotten the door slammed in my face.

I mean, go figure, but still. C’mon.

I retrieve my guitar from its case and sit back against the door. I want to say me coming here after work so I’d have Lucille (my acoustic) with me was a happy accident, but.

I tune while I think. _What would Baz want to hear?_

I give a swift strum. _Do I remember any classical songs?_

Oh, that one will work.

I ease into it, letting my fingers dance over the strings— muscle memory. I didn’t know I could make a song about a Mexican cryptid lady that drowned her own kids sound romantic, but I’m managing it.

Probably because it’s for Baz.

About midway through, I hear shuffling, followed by the softest thump against the door. It registers somewhere in the back of my mind that maybe I should be more nervous. I haven’t played anything classical since I got away from Davy. He sorta ruined it for me.

My hand slides up Lucille’s neck.

I guess he almost ruined music for me altogether.

I start humming along as I reach the end of the song.

I don’t think I’ve ever felt this at ease playing classical guitar in front of someone else. Maybe because it’s just Baz.

No, not _just._

It’s because it is Baz. He doesn’t want me to be... something else. Not me.

_I trust him._

The song ends and I lean my head back against the door. I hear something brush against the wood, then silence.

_Now what?_

I didn’t think this plan through.

Half a song is usually enough in films. Do I just... keep playing?

_The fuck do I play?_

I adjust Lucille on my lap and start throwing spaghetti at the wall.

_In the heat of the fight I walked away_

_Ignoring words that you were saying_

_Trying to make me stay_

I’m doing my best to sing with a southern twang. It sounds like garbage. I think I hear a soft huff on the other side of the door, though.

_I said, "Leave, " but all I really want is to_

_Stand outside your window throwing pebbles screaming,_

_'I'm in love with you'_

I’ve given up on singing; I’m yelling the lyrics at the ceiling. Baz’s neighbours are going to kill me. Him. Us.

_With your face and the beautiful eyes_

_And the conversation with the little white lies_

_And the faded picture of a beautiful night_

_You carry me from your car to the stairs_

_And I broke down crying, was she worth this mess?_

_After everything and that little black dress_

_After everything I must confess, I need you_

-

He’s been here for twenty minutes now. It was around halfway that he started mindlessly babbling. For someone so horrid at talking, he’s managing to do an astounding amount of it.

He starts the next song with a flare. I’m not sure he’s capable of playing _without_ flare. His music’s as subtle as an atom bomb.

_You are my sunshine._

He’s gone utterly silent. The notes are coming slowly, a sadness drenching every pluck.

I’ve already forgiven him. I forgave him as soon as he’d started the first song.

He’s slowing down now, only playing the melody. It’s making me ache.

_You are my sunshine_

_My only sunshine_

_You make me happy_

_When skies are grey_

_You’ll never know dear_

_How much I love you_

_Please don’t take_

_My sunshine away_

The music stops coming, and silence blankets over us. I can’t even hear his mouth breathing.

Eventually, he sighs, and his head thumps against the door.

I reach up and unlock it.


	3. lawnmowers and love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> findingniahmo: 17 for the I love you prompts? 💖🐟  
> og post had a typo and said 17. When the broken grass litters the floor. and i ran with it.

The door slams shut.

“I broke the fucking lawnmower,” Simon announces.

Baz looks up from his laptop. The cat on the back of the sofa cracks an eye open.

Simon stands before them— for lack of a better word— drenched in grass. Head to toe. No bit of him free of green.

“Did you blow it up along with half the yard?”

Simon growls and hastily runs a hand through his hair. Baz and Pudge (the cat) watch as gobs of grass fall onto the carpet.

“No,” he snaps. Breathes. “We’re going to have to buy a new one. I’ll go tomorrow.”

Baz’s eyebrow raises. Pudge blinks. Simon stalks off to the bathroom in a huff, leaving a trail of grass in his wake.

The bathroom door slams and Baz turns to Pudge.

“He’s cleaning that up,” he tells her.

Pudge shuts her eyes, and Baz goes back to his laptop.


	4. just a little cursed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> simon has been cursed...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> caitybuglove23: Hi! Big fan uh. #28 When I am dead

“Snow, drop it!” Baz called after what was basically a scaly corgi with wings. He buttoned his shirt as he ran, no trousers on and one sock missing.

Simon squealed and turned a tight corner into the next room. His claws scrambling for purchase on the hardwood floor. _Over my dead body,_ he thinks as he runs. _See if he can leave me alone like this if he’s in his pants._

Suddenly, something has ahold of his tail and he’s being yanked backwards. A shrill whistle flies out of him as he tries to claw his way out of enemy clutches.

“Give it,” Baz grabs a trouser leg, “here!” He pulls it, hard.

Simon growls and clamps his jaw. _No!_

“ _Simon!”_

_No!_

_RRRRRIIPP!_

The trousers tear in half; Baz loses his footing; they collide.

Simon adjusts himself on Baz’s lap and he sits up. Baz sighs, weary, and looks down at Simon’s snout poking him in the chin. Two cat eyes peer up at him from a tiny dragon’s face. Baz had stayed with him for the entire first week he was cursed, but now he _has to go to work._

Simon coos. A forked tongue flicks up to touch Baz’s chin.

His pathetic, cursed boyfriend.

_What a disaster._

Baz leans down and presses a delicate kiss to the tip of Simon’s nose.

Simon leans forward and doesn’t let Baz’s lips leave his scaly nose. He misses his kisses. His lips on his. _Skin on skin..._

Simon moves until his lips capture Baz’s. His hands thread into his hair. He shifts on his lap to get a better angle—

“Simo—“ Baz tries, but it’s muffled. Simon shoves his tongue into his mouth. His nails scratch against his scalp. He sighs through his nose. _Baz_.

Baz pushes Simon away. “Snow,” he says, urgent. “ _you’re human.”_

Simon blinks, dazed. “Wha?”

He only gets a glimpse of his hands— _his real ones_ — before—

_POP!_

Simon’s perspective falls, and suddenly Baz is back to holding a corgi-sized, red lizard of myth in his lap. They blink at each other, shell-shocked.

**_What?_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one was my fave. maybe someday the idea will get a full fic. who knows!


	5. The inherent intimacy of tummies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From foolofabookwyrm: ILY prompt, From very far away? 💜💜💜

“I love you,” he mumbled. 

They were lying on the sofa, Simon’s head on Baz’s stomach. His belly had been making whale sounds, and for some reason, it had suddenly made Simon blurt that out. 

“Hmm?” Baz hummed, stroking Simon’s hair. 

“I love you,” he said, still soft. 

“You have to speak up, love. You’re so far away, I can’t hear you.” 

Simon huffed and nuzzled against Baz’s tummy. “I said, ‘you’re a fuckface,’” he nearly yelled. 

Baz flicked the top of his head. 

Simon kissed just above his bellybutton. 


End file.
